Yay! It's... umm... May?

A confusion of tulips.

May 2 and all is green around us. Seeds are popping up. Leaf buds explode on the trees. Flowers, flowers, flowers.

More confused tulips.

And it is, well, snowing. Right this moment. Snowing.

I said... SNOWING.

Yesterday I ran around barefoot, wearing a short-sleeve shirt and sweated while I worked (rabbit fences around the strawberries). Today, a fire in the stove and snow shovel at ready.

Unusual, yes. Abnormal for Kansas? Not so much.

All of the little tomato, eggplant and pepper plants have been brought inside until spring comes back again. I am wondering when I will be able to put them in the ground.

The asparagus finally showed up the last two days -- four whole spears. The fruit trees were in bloom and, well, we'll see what happens. I keep checking the weather forecast and going, "What the....?" Then check it again later to see if it's just a big hoax. But I see the snow. OK. It's real. Monday and Tuesday the temps will be more May-like.... well, maybe more mid-April-like. Warmer, all the same. And we are getting moisture, much needed, much beloved moisture.

So it's coming as snow and sleet. Oh, well.

These guys must wait for warmer weather.

Uphill Climb to Spring

Meadow anemones kissed by rain.

It's not really supposed to get down to 25 degrees F. in late April -- even in northeast Kansas. Sure, we can get mildly freezing temps, even after the average last frost date (it's only an average, not a rule, after all). But 25?

Yet that's what the forecast said for Tuesday night. Bah! Humbug! When will it really be spring?

Lungwort

I trundled out sheets, blankets, buckets and tubs to put over broccoli and those gorgeous tulips. I hunkered down and waited. It seemed interminable. My heart was heavy. So beautiful and green outside. I imagined that the next scene would be one of devastation, everything singed and brown...

But...

On Wednesday morning, with sunlight streaming, I looked out upon a beautiful, green landscape. Nothing seemed to have felt the touch of freezing temps. I removed all the protective contraptions and the gardens returned to business as usual. Sigh of relief.

Today promises to be another gorgeous day, full of sunshine and even warmer than yesterday.

So why am I sitting inside typing on my computer?

Seeking Balance

The mint is popping up, regardless of the chilly, cloudy days. My daily teas (excuse me, tisanes) are now made with fresh herbs from the garden. Current favorite, dried nettles with fresh sage and rosemary.

Nature always seeks a balance.

Prey animal populations surge; predators move in.

We have two years of heat and drought, with one exceptionally early spring; and then we get a cold, cloudy, damp spring with everything progressing at a slow pace.

The lungwort likes the damp, cool weather.

Balance does not mean everything is smooth and upright at all times. To maintain balance we wobble, at least in miniscule ways. When I do the yoga pose "tree," I might look steady and firm, but all my muscles are constantly adjusting and readjusting.

So, to maintain balance, we adjust.

And this spring, Nature seems to be adjusting and readjusting.

April, so far, has been chilly, dark and damp. I am grateful for the damp. However, I certainly would like to see a bit of sun and warm weather. Plants need those things to grow, too. But, we did just finish two extremely dry and hot years. So far, the rain has not entirely obliterated "drought." Only the continuation of rain into the summer will do that.

Last year, all of the spring flowers seemed to bloom early and all at once. This year, they are a bit delayed and following their normal progression: first snowdrops and crocus, then daffodils, grape hyacinths and creeping phlox, then tulips. The dampness brightens and highlights the green surrounding us. And, yes, we've had to start mowing.

My confidence in planting the cole crops in late March, with minimal protection, was ill-founded. I am set to replace the green cabbages with a six-pack from the nursery. Everything else will eventually snap out of it, but things did get a little burned by some freezing temps.

Right on schedule (that's a bit of sarcasm, folks) the peach trees have burst into full bloom, just in time for the frosty weather tonight and tomorrow night. It's up to the attic for the strings of big Christmas tree lights, which I will hang today sometime in between showers. And/or I will cover the trees with sheets and blankets to hold in what little heat might be sitting among the branches. That will be tricky. Exactly what makes me think the wind won't defeat all my efforts?

With the clouds and chill and damp, I am not sure who is out pollinating the blossoms, anyway. So it might be a moot point.

Typically, I'd be considering setting out my tomato plants in a week or two, as well as planting beans. Well, that ain't gonna happen.

The meadow anemone diminished during the past two dry seasons, but should flourish and rebound this year.

In September or October, I looked forward to lighting the first fire of the season in our wood burning stove. It seemed so cozy and cheerful. By now I've tired of the mess, wood bits everywhere and ash floating around. I look forward to shoveling out the ash from the last fire of the season. It could be a while. On Tuesday, I brought more wood from the outdoor stacks up into the woodshed next to the house.

I adjust.

Winter isn't letting go easily, yet the weather is gradually warming. The freezing temps will be only just so (29 and 31 are the forecast lows... at the present time.) I might be looking at frosty nights into May, not typical here. I'll deal with it. I'll spend a bit more time indoors working on my writing projects, or attacking the pile of projects stacked next to the sewing machine -- all those things that get neglected when I am focused outdoors.

Balance. I wobble, and adjust. That's how it works.

A Teaspoon of Bees

Warm sunny days bring out the honeybees.

Especially when you offer something sweet.

Tea in the woods -- with honey. Lay a honey-coated spoon on the table and  create a puddle of honey.

Well, you can lick off the spoon. So she did. But we still had a puddle of honey on the table.

One bee showed up, walking through the puddle of sunshine-sweetness. After cleaning herself of the sticky mess, she flew off, danced a happy dance at the hive.

A few more bees showed up.

Then a few more...

They enjoyed the orange peels, too...

and more and more...

...and even more...

In 20 or 30 minutes, the entire puddle was gone and they went after the thin coating of honey still on the spoon, even cramming their heads under the spoon trying to get every last molecule.

What a treasure this was for them. Actual finished honey that they would not have to spend the time drying down. Better than the nectar from the nearby spring blossoms.

It was a joyous afternoon watching the bees. So sweet.

More on the Wetlands Saga

It is not a petition, but a sign that work continues to block the bypass/trafficway set to plow through the Haskell-Baker wetlands at the south edge of Lawrence, Kansas.

The student senate of the University of Kansas has developed a task force to urge the University to give its 20 acres to Haskell Indian Nations University. Since KU's portion is in the trafficway area, giving its share to Haskell would block the trafficway.

Read the story here.

The fight is not over.

In other news: The cabbage and cauliflower plants are in the ground. Today, the broccoli goes in, along with the rest of the onions. Kale and spinach seed are scheduled for planting, just in time for this weekend's rain.

Temperatures will cool again next week, but not quite so low. Spring is slowly creeping in.

More of the Story

I must clarify some information concerning my last post about the Haskell-Baker Wetlands.

In the early part of the 20th century a large portion of the wetlands area was drained to become farmland. Mid-century some preservation efforts were made and later, a larger area was restored to wetlands by both human and natural forces. However, portions of this area are virgin wetlands, with a foundation that has evolved over 10,000 years, while other portions have a foundation only decades old.

I could not find how much of the current area is virgin wetlands and whether those acres are threatened with demolition. You can try to decipher the history here.

Knowing that a large portion of the wetlands is "restored" rather than virgin does not change my feelings about the impending encroachment of bulldozers. This area is home to numerous animals and native plant species. Wetlands provide an invaluable service to the ecology at large, not only by providing habitat for animals, but also by collecting and filtering runoff water and other services.

In the fall, thousands of Monarch butterflies use the wetlands as a rest stop. Doubtless, it also provides refuge for many migrating water fowl.

We displaced the original plants and animals once by draining the wetlands for farming. Now we propose to displace them yet again. Will we capture all of the creatures that make their homes where the concrete will be poured and transfer them elsewhere? I doubt that. They're on their own.

My original point stands. When faced with the potential to gain money, to see "development" and "progress," we shove the natural world aside. Nature takes the back seat, if we even let it in the vehicle at all. It is time to change the way we think about this world. As we treat nature, so we treat ourselves. Corporate disregard for nature seems to translate into disregard for human beings. We are intent on bulldozing ourselves out of a home. We are at a crossroads -- continue on the destructive path or raise our consciousness?

I stand as witness. Whatever happens.

Bearing Witness

We owe it to ourselves, to our children, our grandchildren, to the earth that sustains us, to bear witness to those wild things that are endangered.

A portion of the Baker-Haskell Wetlands on the south edge of Lawrence, Kansas, is set to fall to the bulldozer (at a yet unspecified time as far as I know), victim of our intense desire to get from point A to point B in as little time as possible using as many vehicles as we possibly can. A bypass is set to plow through the wetlands. This will not do harm to the wetlands and its residents, according to "experts."

I cannot believe that. Everything affects all around it. I can't imagine that tons upon tons of concrete bearing whizzing, poison-spewing vehicles will not do damage to the wetlands and its wild residents.

Many claim that this bypass is unnecessary and will not solve traffic issues it is intended to solve.

Mitigation efforts will be made, that is "creation" of new wetlands areas. But that will not truly make up for the destruction of these wetlands created by natural forces over how long I don't know. It will not be the same. It might look similar, but the very foundation of it will be much different.

Like the prairie. Kansas has some of the few remaining acres of virgin prairie... prairie that has developed and evolved over 10,000 years, give or take a few, since the last glaciers retreated. Millennia of evolution has created a specific soil structure, a unique population of soil microorganisms and macroorganisms, specific mixes of plant and animal species. We've plowed and torn up most of these prairies. Yes, we can "restore" them, we can plant seeds of similar grass and forb species, protect remaining native critters. However, that restored prairie will not be the same as that which evolved over 10,000 years.

Like the prairies, these wetlands have evolved over how ever many millennia. The wetlands hosts unique mixes of plants and animals, has a unique foundation -- soil structure and microbial population that we cannot replicate.

So what? Many will ask.

This is a question I cannot answer with logic or science. This is a question that can only be answered from the pit of my soul -- "Because."

Because we humans do not recognize the inherent value of the wild  things, of the ages old natural environments. We only understand when they are spectacularly beautiful or strange or unique -- the Grand Canyon, for example. Especially if we can put a monetary value on their existence. We overlook the inherent value of those things that we deem ordinary or not so beautiful. The prairies are "just grass." The wetlands are "just swamps." The only way to save them seems to be to show where they improve the balance of the bottom line.

But my soul cries out at the loss of these things. My soul is wounded when a pipeline cuts through areas so wild that humans cannot comfortably inhabit them. The human soul is wounded. We will never know the true value of these things... at least not until they are gone.

A fuzzy look at a wetlands inhabitant, some kind of sparrow.

Unless that is, we stand in the middle of a virgin prairie, with grasses waving, wildflowers blooming or setting seed, birds winging across a blue sky that stretches so so far... or stand among the sea of cattails in the wetlands, watch a muskrat swim in the slowly moving water...  and let loose of the "mind," opening our hearts, opening our souls...

When we recognize the vastness, the depth of the wild places, we find our true position in the broad scheme of things. That comforts some of us.

But it frightens the shit out of many more of us. So we "prove" our superiority, our value, our power by bulldozing across these natural places, dismissing their value because we can't put dollar signs in front of it. And the bulldozers cut large wounds across the collective human soul.

A portion of the Haskell-Baker Wetlands is owned by the Haskell Indian Nations University and will not fall prey to the bulldozer. However, the entire wetlands is considered a sacred place by natives and by many of us who are not native. The bypass construction will disturb the sacred ceremonies that are held there, although the "experts" say that the sound won't be disruptive. Sigh. How little they understand.

Many have fought this development for years, but the courts say it is legal and all the proper "legal" things are in place. Go forth and destroy. A few still cling to small scraps of hope that something, something will stop this. Others are exhausted and discouraged by the declaration of the courts. I do not doubt that all of the "legal" factors are in place. However, I am saddened that humans are so willing to sell their souls to the false gods of money and convenience.

I make no call to action here. I don't care if I've convinced you one way or another. I simply bear witness. These photos were taken last week. It is early spring. Little is green at the wetlands now (although today all is covered with snow). You may think that this is not such an attractive place.

Look again. Look deeper. Look with the heart. Look with the soul. Witness the beauty.